


Liebes Mädchen

by Papillonae



Series: HWD Event: Her Kind (2018) [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 17th Century, Affairs, Aged-Up Character(s), Austria mention, F/F, Fluffy Ending, Girls Kissing, Ruined Dresses, Sleepovers, Starcrossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 20:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14292933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papillonae/pseuds/Papillonae
Summary: Hungary meets Liechtenstein at a gala, and the two instantly fall for each other at first sight. However, Hungary is recently betrothed to Austria, and Liechtenstein serves as a vassal to him.Written for the Hetalia Writers Discord Female Characters Event, Day 4: Starcrossed.





	Liebes Mädchen

"When love shines from your blue,  
bright, open eyes,  
and with the pleasure of gazing into them  
my heart pounds and glows;

and I hold you and kiss your  
rosy, warm cheeks,  
lovely maiden, and I clasp you  
trembling in my arms."  
  
_\- Johann Georg Jacobi, set by W.A. Mozart, "An Chloë," K. 524  
_

* * *

A flourish of trumpets signals the arrival of the Austrian and Hungarian rulers as they enter the Great Hall. The gala is now in full swing at the Habsburg Castle.

As the dancers make their rounds, all petticoats and swishing satin gowns, Hungary sits and watches them, uncomfortable and nearly suffocating under the boning of her corset. It’s summertime, and the heat of all the bodies inside is stifling. When she stands up from her table, she feels someone take her gently by the wrist.

When she turns, she sees the face of her newly betrothed.

“Erzsébet.” Austria’s full attention is on her now, his brows are turned inward, “you look unwell. Are you feeling alright?”

Hungary smiles and gently takes his hand in hers. “Thank you for your concern, _Herr_ Edelstein. I was going to take a walk outside. It’s a bit warm in here.”

Ever the gentleman, Austria offers his arm, but she refuses. “Please, I won’t keep you from your guests. I will be fine on my own.”

When she leaves the table, she watches as a few more gentlemen – other nations, like herself – approach Austria and begin talking animatedly to him. She sees him laugh and smile, and for a moment she feels something heavy settle in her stomach – jealousy? She _does_ hold affection for him, yet she also knows that Austria’s eyes also look elsewhere.

Strangely though, the more she thinks on it, the more she is at peace with it.

No, perhaps she feels this jealousy because there is no one else whom she can be with. Not in a betrothed sense, where the love is still a work in progress, but in the same way that Austria’s gaze settles on his former consorts – A love like a whirlwind! – Even if it is fated to end, it’s a love she would feel deep in her bones, a love that would catch her off her guard and leave her wounded… and she would be made happier for it, all the same.

On her own, Hungary mills among the guests as the music begins to slow down, twisting at a chestnut curl of her hair and wishing she had someone to keep her company.

Then she feels someone bump into her with a small cry and a crash of glass.

She turns to see who it is, and ends up looking down at the form of a smaller woman with long, pin-straight blonde hair. She has high-set bangs and small strands of hair pulled back into a thin, neat braid.

Hungary remembers her – _Liechtenstein_. She is another vassal in Austria’s court – and, subsequently, hers, though she feels guilty that they have only seen each other briefly in passing, never getting the chance to talk to one another. Liechtenstein is wearing a meager wine-colored gown, though now there appears to be a larger, darker-colored stain on it – and another stain is splashed on the skirts of her own dress. The broken remains of a wine glass about their feet tells the whole story.

When Liechtenstein looks up at her with bright doe-eyes the color of the midday sky, Hungary _immediately_ forgets about the spill on her dress. She digs up the thought of how those eyes could drown her…

Those eyes widen in recognition, and Liechtenstein startles and backs away from her, her hands flying to her mouth. She begins her long-winded apologies in a voice that reminds Hungary of a timid mouse, “Sorry! Sorry, I did not know it was you, _Fräulein_! I am sorry about your dress—!”

Hungary bends down and reaches for her in an attempt to calm her down. “ _Mädchen_ – Liechtenstein – _please_ , it’s alright. Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head. Hungary lightly touches her arm. “Come with me, I can take you to a place where we can get cleaned up.”

* * *

 

Hungary takes her to her chambers – separate from Austria’s, as they have not yet consummated their alliance. Liechtenstein follows timidly behind her, much like a lost lamb. Once inside, Hungary goes through her armoire and pulls out several different robes and nightgown slips.

“Do you need help with your dress?” she asks gently, “I can help, or I can have my maidservants assist you, if you would prefer…”

Liechtenstein shakes her head vehemently and begins to unbutton the back of her dress by herself. As Hungary looks up at her, she can see how beet-red her guest’s face has grown, how her blush spreads down her neck and up to the tips of her ears, and the sight pulls at her chest. Her heartbeat flutters, and she turns away to give her privacy.

“So, Liechtenstein,” she starts as she works on removing her own wine-stained dress, “we never did properly introduce ourselves.”

“But… you already know my name,” Liechtenstein says.

“I meant your _true_ name,” Hungary says with a good-natured laugh. “Since we are going to be seeing each other a lot from now on, you can call me Erzsébet.”

Liechtenstein appears to be having trouble with the last button at the back of her collar. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with that, _Fräulein_ ,” she argues carefully, “since I am yet only a vassal to you…”

Hungary stands from her bedside, and her dress, finally undone, slips down around her ankles. She steps out of it and walks over to Liechtenstein, her hands gently setting to work on the last button of her dress. “Then until you are comfortable calling me Erzsébet,” she says tenderly, almost in a low whisper, “at least let me call you by your name. Your _true_ name.”

She can see Liechtenstein’s shoulders stiffen as her words breathe against her neck, and even more so as she slips her fingers underneath the back of the dress, skirting them over her shoulder blades. Something about the sight sends a small thrill through her.

“…Elise,” comes the soft reply, “if you would like… please call me Elise.”

Hungary smiles and helps guide her right arm out of its sleeve. “Elise. That’s a very pretty name,” she muses, now helping her with her left arm. “It suits you.”

Once the dress falls at her feet, Liechtenstein steps forward. When she turns to look at Hungary, her eyes widen and she immediately looks down – to the side – _anywhere else_. The flush in her face has new vigor and she fidgets uncomfortably. Hungary notices.

“What’s wrong, Elise?”

“Sorry,” she mumbles, attempting a smile as she quickly darts her gaze between Hungary’s eyes and the floor, “it’s just… you’re… _very_ pretty…”

Hungary looks down at herself. She’s wearing nothing more than bloomers, her corset, and a white top that does nothing to hide her accentuated chest. She feels a heat prickling her cheeks, and she quickly makes for the robes she laid out on the bed. “I’m sorry, please, take one –“

As she hastily hands one to her and begins to wrap herself up, she hears Liechtenstein laughing softly. The sight of her doubling over it is enough to get Hungary laughing as well.

It’s the kind of laugh that makes one fall in love.

* * *

 

The two of them spend the evening in their robes, sitting on Hungary’s bed, talking about their lives before the Habsburgs, before Austria. One of Hungary’s maidservants arrives to check on her, and she is sent to clean the dresses and to fetch a clean one for Liechtenstein to return home in. As the two laugh and make small conversation about their favorite things – flowers, foods, places – Hungary practically forgets the longing looks in Austria’s eyes when he looks elsewhere.

Liechtenstein is with her, and she’s kind and humble, but much more mature than she first thought. She loves embroidery and cheese, and she’s awfully bright for a young lady. Her smile puts her stomach in knots, and Hungary stares at her lips during their whole conversation. She’s consumed only with the thought of how they would look, only slightly parted, with her eyes closed—

She stops herself.

No. This can’t happen. She’s _engaged_. Liechtenstein is only a vassal. They are _women_. There are so many reasons why these feelings are bad, and yet—

“Erzsébet?” Liechtenstein’s face is very close to hers now, and she looks very concerned, “are you alright?”

The sound of her voice derails her train of thought.

“Hey, you finally said my name,” Hungary replies, and she can feel a sly grin on her face. She’s rewarded with Liechtenstein’s shy smile and reddening face. She bashfully tucks a long blonde strand of hair behind her ear, and Hungary can see her biting her lip.

It’s impossibly cute, and she can’t help but lean down and press her lips to her cheek. Liechtenstein shudders with laughter, drawing back to look up at Hungary. There is an honest look in her eyes when she calls her, “Erzsé.” Just _Erzsé_.

It’s then that she ventures another kiss on her cheek. More giggles. Then another kiss. And another. Peck after peck, gradually growing softer, and moving southward.

Eventually, the hummingbird heartbeat of hers dares one more kiss, soft and sensual, at the curve of Liechtenstein’s jaw. Hungary doesn’t see how her eyes are closed and her lips are parted (just as she had imagined) when she feathers more soft kisses down her neck. Her hands slide up her arms – up the smooth material of the robes – and she pulls her closer.

There’s a hitch in Liechtenstein’s breathing, a small sort of keening in her throat, and Hungary rises back up to meet her gaze. Her eyes are hazy and she looks between Hungary’s eyes and her lips. It’s an expectant look, she’s ready for what’s next.

With caution, Hungary wets her lips with the tip of her tongue. She acts upon the leap of her heart and kisses Liechtenstein’s lips with trembling tenderness.

She can hear Liechtenstein inhale sharply through her nose, and she feels her arms slowly looping around her neck. Liechtenstein’s weight settles in her lap, and Hungary pulls her closer still by her waist. They share many soft kisses in succession, like the beat of butterfly wings – until they are both left trembling and breathing each other in.

“Erzsé.” Liechtenstein’s voice is quiet, yet plaintive between kisses. “We can’t do this…”

Hungary tries to hold onto the feeling of her: small, warm, soft skin, the smell of a lily flower, her back arching in her hands. When her lips leave Liechtenstein’s for the last time, she looks cautiously into her eyes.

“…Did I do something wrong?” she asks.

The question catches Liechtenstein off guard. She stammers in Hungary’s lap: “No – I mean, I really liked this – that is… the kissing… and talking with you…”

Hungary’s smile returns for a brief moment, before it’s chased away. “You don’t want to upset Austria?”

Liechtenstein nods. “I am only your vassal… and I wouldn’t be able to be with you the way he is with you… Together, your union is powerful. I am only a very small servant in your Empire…”

“Elise – you are more than that,” Hungary argues, but her heart breaks when Liechtenstein gives her a sad smile. Her eyes look like oceans now, her tears the breaking tide. She kisses the top of her forehead and holds her, strokes her hair as she gazes up at nothing.

“Even if we can’t be _together_ together… we can still meet like this, can’t we?” she asks Liechtenstein.

“If it were an order from you…”

“No orders!” Hungary gently shakes her and wears a mock-annoyed expression (which makes Liechtenstein laugh through sniffles), “you are always welcome to come to my chambers. No matter what castle we’re in. I will make you my escort, if I must.”

Liechtenstein dries her eyes with the knuckle of her finger. “Yes. I would like that.”

For the rest of the evening, Hungary unravels the braids in her hair and brushes it gently while the two talk more about their homes and travels. Her maidservant returns with the dresses, and they help each other into them one last time.

Before Liechtenstein is escorted from the castle by the guard, she turns around and hugs Hungary tightly as she stands at the gate. “Promise me I’ll see you again,” she pleads. The parting kiss Hungary gives her – warm and focused – tells her everything. “I will send for you tomorrow.”

Liechtenstein smiles brightly as she unwraps her arms from her. And as she turns to leave, Hungary smiles to herself, and touches her lips with her fingertips.

 _A love like a whirlwind_ , she thinks to herself. And she’s made all the bolder for it.


End file.
